Several years ago, we stopped at the small alimentari, food market in the outskirts of Fiesole, Borgunto to buy some eggs on the way home. This particular market is so small, if there are more than 4 customers, you have to wait your turn outside. The owner is usually there, providing his personal touch—you simply tell him what you want and he collects everything together for you. (more…)
Rain splats against the window. Familiar, predictable. Dogs bark in the valley and the sound echoes between the hills. Normal. Water begins to boil in the pot and we imagine air bubbles rising to the surface to accompany the sound. Ordinary. (more…)
Florence is the queen city of restaurants. There are literally hundreds of them, from quaint to elegant. From simple to gourmet. From traditional to nouvelle. Tourists pack the restaurants every night of the week, and all will gladly relive their favorites with you. But where can you find great traditional food at local prices? This is the real question. And with this question, the field narrows. (more…)
About 10 years ago we planted grape vines on the arbor for shade in the summer and sun in the winter. A grape arbor is the perfect natural solution since the grapes come on strong in the hottest months and then fall away into an open twiggy lattice when you need the sun the most. Fantastic! But what do you do with all of the grapes? (more…)
Stefano arrived right on time.
Our favorite vivaio, gardener came walking up the steps toward the front door. But rather than watching where he was going, he was looking around at the plants that had grown up since he was last here. As Em walked out the door, Stefano looked up with a surprised grin. “Em-air-sone!” he enthusiastically called out, his Italian voice drawing out the sounds. This is Stefano’s characteristic greeting. I was only a few steps behind and he quickly rushed in for kisses on both cheeks, once again daring to say the hardest word for any Italian, my name. “Sheh-reel, sempre piu giovane! Cheryl, always younger!” (I like this man.) (more…)
Lino finally went into pensione, retirement. He was the only barbiere, barber in the little hilltop town of Fiesole for over 50 years. That’s a lot of clipping, snipping and barber talk in the mirror. He gave the best haircut ever. After his heart attack, he rallied and made a comeback for another 2 years. But eventually, he just couldn’t do it anymore, as he was creeping up on 80 years old. It was his life. (more…)
We hit a snag.
It was an ordinary evening—or so we thought—when the dinner discussion morphed into a mild debate, which then turned into a significant disagreement, just before the fight broke out. Now, it seems to have been a strange topic that neither of us really remembers at this point. We do, however, recall in crystal clear detail the feelings that accompanied the fateful conversation that seemed to go on and on and on. (more…)
Everybody wants to watch the sunset, don’t they?
Whether we want to or not, it won’t happen for us because we live on the shady side of the hill. That means the days seem much shorter because shadows start creeping in early from the late afternoon sun. Sometimes it feels like dusk, yet when we drive around the hill there’s a beautiful sun-filled day still underway, with seemingly hours left to go. (more…)
C’era una volta, once upon a time . . . in the Tuscan hills just north of Florence, Italy, lived some very poor farmers. Their homes were usually one room, built high in the mountains, where both family and animals dwelled together. Life was difficult, but they were thankful for what they had. (more…)
We both saw it at the same time—a squalo, shark swimming across the late summer turquoise sky. I’m serious. Now, don’t tell me you’ve never seen such an outlandish thing. It happens all the time. In the summer when the air is warm, sometimes they come out for a dip. They love to glide through the calm sea of the sky. In fact, there are all kinds of things swimming around up there! (more…)
Uncommon promise 